"Make This Christmas Thing Last"

Christmas Eve 2017

Isaiah 9:2-7; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20

            The latest Marvel Comics superhero movie is the third Thor movie, Thor: Ragnorak. It received significantly better reviews than the previous two Thor movies, which were not very good. One reason that this Thor movie was better was that for the first half hour or so, Thor isn’t invincible. He loses his mighty hammer, which means he doesn’t have a lot of the power he’s used to having available to him. Thor’s still strong, but so are other guys. He’s captured and pitted in a Roman gladiator type contest, which he loses. Thor, this great Norse god, is weaker than his opponents, for the first time in any of the Marvel movies. It makes him a little more relatable, because it makes him a little more average, and it’s part of what made this Thor movie better than the previous ones. We see him lose. We see Thor as if he wasn’t a superhero, as if he wasn’t one of the Avengers.

            Christmas is similar, in that at Christmas is when God took on human form, that’s what the word ‘incarnation’ means. God loves us so much that he sent Jesus, who was both fully God and fully man. Jesus wasn’t your average person, but he was a little more relatable than some God whom you couldn’t even look at face to face or you’d die. Jesus was here, among us. Walked the earth, ate food, loved people, got upset, forgave people, fed people. Physical, tangible, material. That’s what Christmas is about: God becoming material. Not exactly the sort of materialism one typically associates with Christmas. Christmas isn’t about things and decorations and presents under the tree. Christmas is about God becoming material in baby Jesus. That’s the greatest gift of Christmas. God came down in the person of Jesus Christ.

            The early church had to flesh out this doctrine and just what we believe about Jesus. A clergy colleague of mine refers to this as the “first war on Christmas.”[1] You see, in the 4^th century, there was a prominent church deacon named Arius who taught that Jesus was not fully God, that Jesus had not been around since the beginning. This teaching was in spite of the very first verse of the Gospel of John saying, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” And Arius gained quite a following. Well, the 4^th century was also when the Roman Emperor Constantine converted to Christianity and made it the state religion. Constantine didn’t want division in the church and so he convened the first Council of bishops at Nicea. One of those bishops was the gentleman we know as St. Nicholas. While we are familiar with the legend about St. Nicholas secretly giving gifts, another legend says that at this Council, St. Nicholas became so enraged by Arius claiming that Jesus wasn’t fully God that he punched Arius in the face! The other bishops deemed such violence inappropriate for a bishop and they stripped him of his title and put him in prison. He managed to escape later on and the Council went on to determine that yes, Jesus was both fully God and fully man. Arius was declared a heretic. And the Nicene Creed was written, declaring Jesus as eternally begotten of the Father, true God from true God. That’s also found in the second verse of “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” and that’s why it says Jesus was “begotten, not created.” Jesus wasn’t created, because he’s God. Yet in Jesus, God put on human flesh. That’s the incarnation. And if you hear the phrase “living incarnationally,” which I used to hear when I served in Nicaragua, it means living with the people. God came here, to live with us.

Christmas is about God being here. That’s what Emmanuel means, God with us. God is no longer in the pillar of fire during the exodus or a spirit hovering over the water in Genesis or kept only in the Ark of the Covenant. God with us. Emmanuel. We’ve been singing “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” all Advent and now Emmanuel is here. God became incarnate and is now here among us. That’s what we sang in the second verse of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” “Veiled in flesh the Godhead see; Hail th’incarnate Deity, Pleased with us in flesh to dwell, Jesus our Emmanuel.” It’s curious that Emmanuel didn’t make it into the list of names in Isaiah 9, along with “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Yet that’s because Isaiah already talked about Emmanuel back in chapter 7. Just two chapters before Isaiah talked with the King of Israel, King Ahaz, who was terrified at the imminent attack from an enemy country. Through Isaiah, God told Ahaz that he would survive the attack and to ask for a sign. Ahaz refused to ask God for a sign, yet God gave him a sign, anyway: “The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son and will call him Emmanuel (which means ‘God is with us’).”[2] Jesus, Emmanuel, is God-with-us.

            I don’t know if your family has a special family prayer that’s always said before my meals. My mom’s family does. It’s actually from the hymnal, “Be present at our table, Lord.” It’s usually a good sign when a new significant other joins the family dinner table and is quick to learn the prayer, because it means they’re invested in the family. It’s grace, said before dinner, an invitation, “be present at our table, Lord.” We know God is everywhere, yet it helps us to state the obvious and it helps us to make it an invitation to intentionally include God at the family dinner table. God is here, present. God is with us. God is with you. That’s Emmanuel. That’s what we remember and celebrate at communion, too. This is our church family dinner table. We begin the Great Thanksgiving, the great prayer before the meal, by saying “The Lord be with you. And also with you.” Emmanuel. God is with you.

            So, now what? It’s 2017, not 2,000 years ago. Jesus lived his life on earth, died, was resurrected, and then ascended into heaven. He didn’t leave us alone, he send the third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, to be with us. God is still with us. Yet, what now? Well, now we spread the good news. We offer light to those who still walk in darkness. We hold out hope for those who have lost their hope. We spread joy. We spread peace. We remind each other that God is with us, whatever situation we’re going through. God is with you at school and at work and at home and in the hard phone call and in the doctor’s office and in the waiting room and at the graveside. God weeps with you at the bad news and celebrates with you at the good. God gives you strength to give a hug to someone who needs it. God gives you courage to help a stranger.

            The Trans-Siberian Orchestra has a song called “Old City Bar.”[3] It’s about a bunch of strangers at a bar on Christmas Eve. A child comes inside the bar and asks if the crowd knows that there’s someone lost standing outside the door. The bartender takes all of the cash out of the register, flags down a cab, puts the lost girl in the taxi with instructions to go to JFK so that she can get home for Christmas. The next stanza says,

“If you want to arrange it

This world, you can change it
If we could somehow
Make this Christmas thing last
By helping a neighbor
Or even a stranger
To know who needs help,
You need only just ask.”

Now what? Now we spread that hope and help and love from that Christmas. We can “make this Christmas thing last” by helping those who need help, whether a neighbor or a stranger. We can be Jesus by helping those who need help, by doing what Jesus did: walking alongside each other, sharing our food, loving each other, forgiving each other, whether neighbor or stranger. God is here. Let’s help make his presence known and felt. Amen.

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[1] http://www.wesleybros.com/wesbros/visitfromsanta1/

[2] Isaiah 7:14, NIV

[3] https://genius.com/Trans-siberian-orchestra-old-city-bar-lyrics

Naming the Blessing as a Blessing

4^th Sunday of Advent

December 24, 2017

Luke 1:26-55

            James Whitcomb Riley was a poet from Indiana around the turn of the 20^th century. Two of his better known poems are “Little Orphant Annie” and “The Raggedy Man”, which are the inspirations behind Little Orphan Annie and the Raggedy Ann doll, respectively. Much of his work was for children and when he died, one of the memorials dedicated to him was Riley’s Children Hospital in Indianapolis. He’s also thought to have been the first one to write the duck test, when he penned, “When I see a bird that walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.”[1] It’s abductive reasoning, which starts with an observation and then seeks the most likely explanation. When something looks like a duck and quacks like a duck and waddles like a duck, most likely, it’s a duck. But sometimes it’s hard to tell that it’s a duck. The mandarin duck – which waddles and swims and quacks, and is, in fact, a duck – has a patchwork quilt of feathers brighter and more colorful than your Christmas tree, has sails on its back, pronounced crests and a differently shaped beak. Doesn’t look at all like what we think a duck should look like, but it’s a duck.

         

   Similarly, there are times when God’s blessings don’t always look like what we think a blessing should look like. Or maybe not what we expect a blessing to look like. Our Gospel this morning was the annunciation to Mary, when God sends an angel to Mary to tell her she’s favored by God and going to bear God’s son. Before we get into Mary’s response, I want to consider her family’s response to this news. Mary is usually thought to have been around 12, 13, 14 years old. She was engaged to Joseph but they weren’t married yet, so she would have still been living at home with her family. Can you imagine her parents’ reaction? Or, more for that culture, her father’s reaction? His daughter’s engaged, everything’s set for her to marry Joseph and she somehow gets pregnant. Is he going to believe it was God?? Not likely. And when Joseph denies it was him, because Joseph was going to end the engagement Mary quietly, what then must her parents have thought?! Anger, shame, embarrassment, fear for Mary’s future, who would want to marry her now? We’re not told anything about how Mary’s family reacted. This is speculation. Yet it’s speculation based on human nature and based on the historically negative reactions to out of wedlock pregnancies. I mean, Hester Prynne has to wear a scarlet letter A on her clothing in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s novel from 1850! I imagine some of Mary’s family still responded with love and compassion. I expect others were ready to stone her, which the punishment for women caught in adultery according to the law of Moses. Jesus saves such a woman in John 8 by telling the would-be stone throwers to let whoever is without sin to be the first to cast a stone.[2] And… they all leave. Either way, we’re not told much about Mary’s family, but they don’t stone her, they don’t disown her. Yet they couldn’t have been too pleased, either. They would have seen this as an unwanted pregnancy and definitely not as a blessing.

            Now, Mary’s response. Mary is a thoughtful, reflective person. When the angel greeted her, Mary “was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.”[3] And we’ll read tonight how after the shepherds come to visit baby Jesus, Mary “treasures all these words [the shepherds told them] and pondered them in her heart.”[4] Mary is someone who thinks about things. She doesn’t just say, “Okay,” to the angel. The angel says, “You’re going to have a son,” and Mary’s response is to ask, “How? I’m a virgin.” She’s pragmatic and she doesn’t assume anything. Now, I realize that the statistics say that only 85% of American Christians believe Mary was actually virgin, which means that if there are about 70 of us here this morning, then 10 people don’t believe.[5] My point, though, is that Mary doesn’t assume she’s about to sleep with Joseph, or be raped, or break her promise of faithfulness to Joseph and sleep with someone else. She doesn’t say, oh cool beans, I get to have a romp in the hay before I’m married. Mary says, in effect, “I’m not sleeping with anyone. So, HOW am I going to get pregnant?” The angel tells her the Holy Spirit is how she’s going to get pregnant. It’s going to be like a mini-Pentecost, Pentecost being when we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit and the birth of the Church.  And so, being told, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God… For nothing will be impossible with God,” is enough for Mary. She probably still has her doubts. She knows the neighbors will talk. But Mary knows God has clearly called and chosen her to do this. And so she says, along with Samuel, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and so many others, “Here I am, Lord.”

            That’s the funny thing about answering a call from God. You can say yes, and follow through, and still have your doubts about it. It’s saying, “Ok, God. You called me to do this. I have no idea how it’s going to work out, but I trust you.” It’s being faithful to the call, even when you don’t have any idea how God is going to work it out. After Mother Teresa’s death, it was revealed in her memoirs that she had doubts that God even existed, but that didn’t stop her from doing God’s work.[6] I’ve shared with y’all that being a pastor was not my idea. Well, even during seminary, when I was learning and training to become a pastor, I still wasn’t sure about it. God had called, and so I was on the path, I was in seminary. But I really wasn’t sure about being a pastor. I think I spent most of seminary waiting for God to say, “Sike! Just kidding. You can go back to Nicaragua now. Or use your seminary studies to serve me in this other way.” I would not have been surprised if God had said that. But God didn’t. And here I am, now in my 8^th year of serving as a pastor. And it may be too soon for y’all to have an opinion or you may disagree, but I will tell you that my last DS, in Baltimore, affirmed me as a pastor and told me I’m a good pastor. When I answered God’s call, I had a lot of uncertainty and doubts. I imagine Mary did as well. She wasn’t really sure whether this pregnancy would be a blessing or not.

            Now, the next thing Mary does is go visit her cousin, Elizabeth. We’re not told if her family sent her away to hide the pregnancy or if Mary would have done this trip, anyway, to see her relative who was barren for so long but now six months pregnant. And Elizabeth does for Mary what my last DS did for me. Mary agreed to bear God’s son, but she’s a contemplative person. She’s not sure how this is all going to work out. Then Mary enters Zechariah’s and Elizabeth’s house and greets them and Elizabeth calls her “blessed.” “God has blessed you above all women, and your child is blessed. Why am I so honored, that the mother of my Lord should visit me? When I heard your greeting, the baby in my womb jumped for joy. You are blessed because you believed that the Lord would do what he said.”[7] Elizabeth tells Mary in no uncertain terms, “Cousin… that’s a duck.”  Now, this conversation between Elizabeth and Mary is not usually included in the reading for today. Usually, it’s the angel and Mary and then the Magnificat, which was what we read responsively. The people who designed the lectionary left out this vital conversation because, well, we KNOW it’s a duck.   But it’s important to hear Elizabeth’s affirmation of Mary. Twice Elizabeth calls her blessed. Blessed is Mary among women because of this pregnancy and blessed is Mary because she believed what God said. This unwanted, un-planned-for, not socially acceptable pregnancy is a blessing. Elizabeth, who had waited her whole life for a baby, whose barrenness was a disgrace and has made her somewhat of an expert on this particular species of bird, is the one to call a duck a duck and to name the blessing as a blessing.

            Sometimes, we need that. Sometimes we need others to point out our blessings. To remind us of the ways God has blessed us. To remind us that we are blessed simply because we believe and trust what God promises and that God will be faithful to those promises. Blessings don’t always come how we expect. They don’t always look like what we think blessings ought to look like. We’re not always sure they’re ducks, and not God testing us or maybe not God at all. We have our doubts, and doubts are okay. As long as you stay faithful. I had doubts about being pastor, I never had doubts about God calling. This life is not one I ever dreamed of. Yet it is a blessing. It’s a blessing to be with y’all, to walk alongside you, to be part of this community. It’s a blessing.

            Mary’s response to Elizabeth naming the blessing as a blessing was to sing what is often called the Magnificat, the first phrase in Latin. “My soul magnifies the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.”

            One last poem this morning, the one that was inspiration for this sermon, which ultimately is from God, came through a poem that a clergy colleague of mine in North Carolina wrote:

Naming the Blessing as a Blessing: A Poem of Mary and Elizabeth

By Laura Johnson[8]

Was no one there to rub her back
when she got sick by the side of the road?
Poor child, that Mary,
fleeing the angel’s earth-shattering words to Elizabeth’s tranquil countryside.
Did her traveling companions pretend not to notice
her queasiness and sleepy eyes and swelling gut,
or did they whisper too loudly in her direction
with obvious glares of disdain?
One can only imagine.

How did she hold it all in –
the fear and questions and what if’s and well maybe’s
and the, how in the world will I tell Joseph,
and the, did the angel really mean The Son of God,
and the mantra of survival, on repeat, to convince herself…
I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I
can
do
this…
…right?…

Did she get sick with fear when she saw the familiar home
where Elizabeth was waiting unsuspectingly?
Did she regret this unplanned journey and think of turning back?
Did she fear that this
one and only safe-haven
wouldn’t be safe
after all?
What then?
One can only imagine.

But from what I know of spiritual sisterhood, here’s what I imagine…
A courageous knock, bolder than she felt.
The waddling footsteps, heavy with child.
Mary’s wildly-beating heart and aching feet and sick stomach.
A look of surprise.  Elizabeth begins,
“Mary, what are you doing—”
Then widened eyes.  Her wrinkly hands cover her long-prayed-for belly and
the baby dancing with joy inside.

And then –
a kind, knowing, Holy Spirit smile –
so genuine that Mary wants to weep and sigh in relief and (finally!)
pour out her secretly burdened heart
and unravel the tangled mystery of angels and prophecies and theology
and (gulp)
babies.

But then, before she utters a word, the unexpected:
Mary, your blessing is greater than all.
Elizabeth names what Mary knows deep within…
knows, but won’t dare admit,
until she hears it named aloud
in this longed for, life-saving, life-giving
haven of safety.

This blessing is greater than all.
This blessing will save the world.
This blessing will come through me.

Her calling crystallizes and there she stands,
humbled, speechless,
amazingly
joyful.

Here’s what I imagine next:
Mary opens her mouth (because she has to say something),
But all she can do is sing.
Not of fears and what if’s and what next’s and how will I’s…
but of him.
Because none of that matters, not really, not now, not in light of him…
He who is but a tiny life within her,
though still – somehow – Larger than Life itself.

It makes you wonder…
What would have become of that poor child, Mary,
had Elizabeth ignored
those inspired kicks within?
If she hadn’t offered the safe embrace of holy sisterhood?
If she hadn’t named the blessing as a blessing?
If she hadn’t looked deep into those searching eyes and said, you. can. do. this…?

What would have happened if Mary had no one to help
shoulder the load
of the blessing so great
that, (like many callings)
was too heavy to carry alone?

Thank goodness,
one can only imagine.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

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[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duck_test

[2] John 8:7

[3] Luke 1:29, NRSV

[4] Luke 2:19

[5] http://www.pewforum.org/2017/12/12/americans-say-religious-aspects-of-christmas-are-declining-in-public-life/#religious-nones-explain-much-but-not-all-of-decline-in-belief-in-christmas-story

[6] http://time.com/4126238/mother-teresas-crisis-of-faith/

[7] Luke 1:42-45, NLT

[8] https://ourworldisstillbeautiful.wordpress.com/2017/12/12/naming-the-blessing-as-a-blessing-a-poem-of-mary-and-elizabeth/

John the Voice

3^rd Sunday of Advent

December 17, 2017

John 1:6-8, 19-28

            “John the Voice” is not a title we’re used to hearing. Anyone know who I mean? He’s usually called John the Baptist. Except, not in the Gospel of John. (Different John, by the way. It was just as common a name 2,000 years ago as it is today.) The Gospel of John is different in many ways from the other three gospels, including its description of John the Baptist. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all talk about John the Baptist, as the baptizer, the one who baptizes people in the Jordan River. John’s not Baptist, as in the denomination; he’s John the Baptist because he baptizes people for repentance for the forgiveness of their sins. He tells people to turn back to God because the kingdom of God is near. And Luke goes one step farther and tells us about John’s family, his mom Elizabeth, who is cousins with Mary, the mother of Jesus, and his dad, Zechariah who’s a priest. They’re an elderly childless couple when God sends an angel to tell Zechariah that they’re going to have a baby who they’re going to name John. It’s a bit like Abraham and Sarah back in the Old Testament, and Sarah’s response is to laugh when she’s told she’s going to have a baby in her old age. Zechariah is also dubious and because he doesn’t believe the angel, he is struck mute until the baby is born. The neighbors ask what they’re going to name the child, and Zechariah writes, “His name is John,” and then he is able to speak again. Zechariah’s first words are, “Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, because he has come to his people and redeemed them.”[1] This is the history of John the Baptist. And then we also know from Matthew, Mark, and Luke that John is this wild man who wears clothes made out of camel’s hair with a leather belt and eats locusts and wild honey. Yet none of that is in the Gospel of John; it’s in the first three Gospels, which are also called the synoptic Gospels, because of their similarities, but not in John’s Gospel.

John’s Gospel is different. Instead of telling us all those details about John the Baptist, John’s Gospel says, “There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.”[2] That’s what John the Gospel writer wants you to know about John the Baptist. He is sent from God. He came as a witness to the light, so that others might believe. He is not the light but was sent from God to testify to the light, which is Jesus. John’s main vocation, his main job, his calling from God is to be a witness. Likewise, our work is to point to Jesus. I am not the focus, you are not the focus, there is no other leader we are to point to. And this is because we cannot save ourselves. We are not salvation ourselves. There is no person who can save us besides Jesus Christ and our job is to point others to Jesus, that they may also come to believe. Our church is not the focus. The sanctuary decorations, no matter how beautiful, are not the focus. Only Jesus can save.

There once was a conversation between two theology professors – true story. One of them was feeling overwhelmed by all that he had to do, end of the semester finals and grading, and everything else. He shared this with his colleague, who replied, “Jesus has already come.” And he said, “Yeah, I know Jesus has already come. I still have a lot to do.” And the colleague said, “No, Jesus has already come.” The first professor said, “Yeah…? Jesus has come. What’s your point?” The colleague said, “Jesus, the Savior, has come. And you are not him.” You are not the savior. I am not the savior, of anything, so I hope you haven’t had illusions of me “saving the church.” Only Jesus saves. That is not our job. That is not our responsibility. That is not our burden. Our job is to point to Jesus.

There was a German Renaissance painter named Matthias Grünewald. He painted the crucifixion of Jesus more than anything else and in one of the paintings, he put John the Baptist in it.[3] Now this is chronologically incorrect, because John died before Jesus, but artists take liberties. In this painting, with Jesus on the cross in the middle, and his mom weeping on one side, on the other side is John the Baptist, and he’s painted with a finger pointing to Jesus. 

This is John’s sole purpose. To point to Jesus. To bear witness to the light, which is not him.  John is very clear that he was not Jesus, he is not the Savior, he is not the long-awaited Messiah who was coming to save God’s people. And we are not the Messiah, either. And neither is anyone else. Only Jesus.

However, the Jewish leaders and priests try to pinpoint John on to just who he is exactly. And John says, I am not the Messiah, I am not Elijah, I am not a prophet. And the leaders say, “So, who are you? Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” Now, the Gospel of John is big on “I am” statements. This is the Gospel where Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd. I am the gate. I am the resurrection. I am the way, the truth and the life.” Lots of “I am” statements. And John gives one, too. John says, “I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord.’” John the Voice. This is what John says about himself. I am the voice of one calling out in the wilderness. The reference is to Isaiah 40:3, “A voice of one calling: ‘In the wilderness prepare the way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.’” That’s who John claims for himself. The voice of one calling in the wilderness, get ready for God. God’s coming. God’s on the move. Prepare the way for God.

Let’s take this in two parts. First, what does it mean to be the voice that cries out? In particular, a voice that calls out from the wilderness? Well, it’s usually countercultural. It usually goes against the status quo. It usually calls for change, which is what John said. The Bible phrase is that he preached a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. To put that in other words, he called for people to turn back to God, to stop doing what was wrong, to ask forgiveness for what they had done that they shouldn’t have done, to redirect their focus off themselves and put their focus back on God. That’s what John invited people to do. He said, the kingdom of God is near. The light is coming. Jesus is coming. Get ready. God is bending low. And John does it from the wilderness, from the desert, perhaps because then the voice stands out more than when it’s just one voice among many in the crowd. A voice calling out from the wilderness draws attention. It may or may not get credibility as this single, wild voice, yet it stands out and is heard. Maybe not listened to, although we’re told John baptizes many, but it’s at least heard.

Second, the message of getting ready and preparing. There is a temptation to focus on our waiting for Christ instead of our waiting for Christ.[4] Do you see the difference? One puts the focus on us. It’s our waiting and our preparations and our crazy Decembers. The other way puts the focus on Jesus. Jesus is who we’re waiting for and getting ready for. Jesus is the reason for the season. Christmas is not your birthday. If what you’re doing this month isn’t helping you get ready for Jesus, then I suggest you stop doing it. If baking cookies doesn’t help you get ready for Jesus, don’t bake them. If elaborate decorations, however beautiful, don’t help you prepare, don’t put them up. This season of Advent isn’t about you. It isn’t about your loved ones. It isn’t about “the presents! The ribbons! The wrappings! The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!”[5] That’s what the Grinch thinks Christmas is all about.  And the Grinch learns that “Maybe Christmas, doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more!”[6] Now, the Grinch is, of course, from Dr. Seuss and Dr. Seuss doesn’t include Jesus. But that’s the more that we as Christians know that Christmas means. It’s about a baby. And your focus this Advent season shouldn’t be inward. This is not the time for introspection, because it’s not about you. Instead of inward, your focus should be forward.[7] Jesus is coming. Keep your focus on him. Remember, you’re getting ready for him, not for family and guests and Christmas dinner and parties and whatever else is on your list. Remember, none of that stuff will save you. And some of that stuff isn’t helpful in getting ready for Jesus, so say no. Do what’s healthy and life-giving. Get rid of the traditions that are life-draining. Life will not end because you don’t have all the decorations up you used to put up or you don’t go to your company Christmas party or, heaven forbid, for me, listen to John Denver and the Muppets Christmas album. That’s a tradition that’s life-giving, by the way. My husband even bought me the digital version. But if it’s draining, if it doesn’t keep your focus forward on Jesus, stop. John the Voice called for people to turn back to God. If what you’re doing isn’t turning your attention to God, then it may be time to stop doing it.

And you know why? Why this all matters? Because today’s wilderness keeps growing. Billy Joel released a song in 1989 called “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” Each verse describes a decade, starting with the 1950s, through the 1980s. Well, you could write a whole verse on the fires that have happened just this past month, and are still growing[8]: the fires of rage in the Middle East as peace there is threatened; the literal wildfires raging through communities in California; sexual harassment allegations sweeping through our country like a wildfire as women become emboldened to speak out, because their voices are finally being heard; a tax bill poised to burn through the poor and middle classes and usher in another Great Depression (because all the same signs from 1929 are there); the flames of war between North Korea and the United States slowly rising; the barrage of muzzle fire as gun violence tears apart family after family across our country; the fire of investigation steadily banishing the darkness hiding the truth about Russia’s involvement in our elections; net neutrality’s flame being extinguished.  It feels like so much of the world is burning.

It feels like the wilderness is growing. It feels all the more like we need John the Voice’s message crying out from the wilderness, “Make straight the way of the Lord. Clear the way for the Lord’s coming! Get the road ready for the Lord!”[9] We need a voice crying out, get ready for Jesus. He’s coming. It’s not about us, thank God. And no person can save us, but Jesus. But Jesus. Life in the wilderness, but Jesus. Thanks be to God.

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[1] Luke 1:68

[2] John 1:6-8

[3] https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/4f/Mathis_Gothart_Gr%C3%BCnewald_022.jpg (I couldn’t find a title for the painting.)

[4] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 1, p. 68

[5] From “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” by Dr. Seuss

[6] Ibid.

[7] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 1, p. 68

[8] Thanks to Jaye White for compiling the list.

[9] John 1:23, NRSV, ESV, NLT

Kingdom Ethics

Christ the King Sunday

November 26, 2017

Matthew 25:31-46

            I mentioned last week that the parable of the talents, or eight bags of gold, was the third of four stories that Jesus tells in this part of Matthew about what the kingdom of heaven will be like at the end of time. Today’s Gospel is the fourth story. In addition to stories about be prepared, keep watching and waiting, and use what God has given you, we now have this judgment story about the sheep and the goats. To many of us, this is a familiar judgment scene. Christ the King has come in all his glory and it is judgment day. With all the angels and all the nations gathered around, Jesus separates the people as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. Or, interestingly enough, in the Ezekiel passage that we read, the shepherd separates sheep from sheep.[1] Jesus tells the sheep on his right about all the good things they did, taking care of the least, the last, and the lost, visiting the sick and those in prison, clothing those in need of clothes, feeding the hungry, and welcoming the stranger. The sheep are surprised and ask Jesus, “When did we do these things for you?” And Jesus says, “Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.”[2] Then, to those on his left, Jesus condemns, saying, “I was hungry and you gave me no meal, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was homeless and you gave me no bed, I was shivering and you gave me no clothes, Sick and in prison, and you never visited.”[3] And the goats are surprised and ask, “When did we see sick or in prison or homeless or hungry or in need? If we’d known it was you, we would have helped you!”[4] And Jesus replies, “Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me—you failed to do it to me.”[5]

            It’s interesting that both the sheep and the goats are surprised. Neither group thought much about how their actions affected the poor, the homeless, the hungry, the sick, the prisoner, and the stranger. They lived their lives, did their thing, and now actions they hadn’t thought much about are influencing their final end. The sheep didn’t really consider that visiting the sick was something that their shepherd would notice. They believed Jesus when he said earlier in Matthew that the most important laws and commandments were to love God and love your neighbor as yourself, and loving your neighbor meant helping them when you saw a need.[6] Again, the goats didn’t think much about it, either, other than to believe that they would recognize Jesus if they saw him, and they didn’t see him in the sick or homeless or hungry or imprisoned or refugee.  If Jesus had been among them, then they would have helped, or so they believe.

It reminds me of the story about the new pastor who dressed up as a homeless person his first Sunday at his new church.  Have y’all heard this story?  As the congregation files in for worship that morning, most of them ignore him as he’s sitting there, maybe a couple pay attention to him, and something like just one or two people offer any help to him.  Then, when the new pastor is introduced before the service starts, he rises from the back pew, takes off his homeless disguise, and reveals himself as their new pastor.  The church is shocked and ashamed of themselves and learn a good lesson about whether they’d be among the sheep or the goats.  The truth is that we don’t want to think about judgment. We resist the idea that we need judgment.[7] That’s for other people. We don’t need judgment. We do the best we can and when we don’t, well, we have excuses ready. Surely, not us, Lord, just like Peter says in the very next chapter of Matthew when Jesus tells him that he’s going to deny Jesus three times before the cock crows.[8] We like to think better of ourselves. Goats do not see themselves as goats any more than the sheep recognize themselves as sheep.[9] Remember, both groups were surprised. Both groups failed to recognize Jesus among the poor and the needy. What if it’s because good behavior doesn’t come from trying to be good? After all, we’re saved by faith and not by our actions.[10] Yet, if we have faith, it will show itself by what we do.[11] Earlier in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus gives the analogy that “every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them.”[12] By our fruit, by our actions, we show our faith and what we really believe.

One of my favorite classes in seminary was Christian Ethics.[13] And I loved it because the way the professor taught it made sense to me. He explained that there are different kinds of ethics, even among Christians. There are those who believe in Universal Ethics, that what is true for one is true for all. For example, the Catholic Church uses universal ethics, which is why when a statement comes out, it’s claimed for all people. There was another category called Subversive Ethics, and this is where feminism and liberation theology falls, lifting up those who are left out when you say everyone. This strand says that what’s good and true depends on where you’re standing. Good news to someone who’s hungry is a hot meal, whereas a hot meal isn’t a big deal to you or me. Finally, the third major category he called Ecclesial Ethics, or Christian Ethics, that what I believe as a Christian is applicable to Christians, and I cannot hold non-Christians to the same expectations. The reason why is because Christians should look first to the transformation brought about in Christ, and not to society, for the source of our ethics. The professor also said that with Christian ethics, it’s about how we’re formed and how we’re shaped that influences our decisions.

This is different from situational ethics, where what you decide to do depends on each situation and each decision becomes a major dilemma on what to do. However, those of us who follow Jesus, who are formed by Jesus and our life in Christ, don’t have a big dilemma each time. The decision was already made when we decided to follow Jesus. Do I or don’t I help someone in need? Jesus says we’re to help. There’s no debate, there’s no crisis moment. One of the classic examples in situational ethics is your wife who is super sick and you can’t afford the medicine that will save her. Do you break into the pharmacy or do you let her die? Well, this ethic turns that on its head, because as Christians we believe that death is not the end, we believe we will see each other again. We’re not afraid of death. Plus, Jesus says don’t steal, don’t covet what’s not yours. So, it’s hard, but no, you don’t break in and rob the pharmacy. Because that’s who you are. The decision was already made in the decision to follow Jesus. There’s no crisis moment or agonizing decision. When someone asks you to pray, you pray. When you say you will pray, you pray. When you see a need you can fill, you do it. The sheep weren’t out there searching for ways to help, they helped the least of these as opportunities arose, that’s why they didn’t stand out in their memory. To be a sheep, you don’t have to go looking for someone in need. Someone in need of a kind word or gentle touch or helping hand will come your way soon enough. And, since you’ve already decided to follow Jesus, to believe in him and obey his commands, then there is no decision about how you’ll respond. You’ll respond with love, because that’s who you are in Christ and as a subject in his kingdom.

In the Gospel of Matthew, “Jesus does not instruct disciples that they should become the salt of the earth or the light of the world; he tells them they are [the salt of the earth and the light of the world]. Likewise, Jesus does not command his followers to hunger and thirst for justice, pursue peace, and so forth; he blesses those who [already] do [in the Beatitudes] (5:1-16). [This final] Judgment simply brings out a reality that has been present all along.”[14] This is who you are, because you belong to Christ. “You are the light of the world.”[15] So, don’t hide your light but “let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”[16]

The separation of the sheep and the goats comes down to one question: Do you take care of those in need? No conditions on who that person is, nationality, language, age, gender, sexual orientation, legal status, accusations against them. If you see someone in need and you can provide that need, do you do it? I know for many of us, that answer is yes. I know, because you’ve told me. And maybe you didn’t realize you were sharing with me a time you visited Jesus in prison or when he was sick, or fed him when he was hungry, or gave him clothing when he didn’t have any, or welcomed him when he was a stranger, and that’s okay if you didn’t recognize him. Because the point isn’t that you recognized Jesus, the point is that you met a need, that you obeyed Jesus’ commandment to love your neighbor as yourself, that you showed love to someone in need in a way that made a meaningful difference to that person. You’ve heard of the golden rule? Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you. A few years ago the “platinum rule” started making the rounds: Do unto others as they’d have you do unto them. Giving a coat to someone who’s hungry isn’t helpful. They’re still hungry; that basic need still isn’t being met. I read a children’s paraphrase of this passage that I thought was really helpful in terms of thinking about this a slightly different way:

“I sat alone in the cafeteria, with little to eat, and you sat with me and shared your lunch. Kids laughed at my old clothes, but you treated me as if they were brand new. I was never chosen for any team, but when it was your turn to choose, you chose me. Everyone laughed at my mistakes, but you said kind words to make me feel better. When I stayed home, I thought no one would miss me, but you called me and asked when I would be back.”[17] That’s what it means to follow King Jesus. That’s what it looks like to “do unto the least of these, our brothers and sisters.”[18] May God grant us the grace and courage to do so.

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[1] Ezekiel 34:22

[2] Matthew 25:40, MSG

[3] Matthew 25:42-43, MSG

[4] Children of God Storybook Bible by Desmond Tutu

[5] Matthew 25:45

[6] Matthew 22:37-39

[7] http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3480

[8] Matthew 26:33-35

[9] http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2209

[10] Galatians 2:16

[11] James 2:17-18

[12] Matthew 7:17-20, NIV

[13] Professor Sam Wells, Duke Divinity School, Spring 2009

[14] http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2209 , emphasis mine

[15] Matthew 5:14a

[16] Matthew 5:16

[17] http://www.ministrymatters.com/all/entry/2051/worship-for-kids-november-26-2017

[18] Matthew 25:40

Risky Business

24^th Sunday after Pentecost

November 19, 2017

Matthew 25:14-30

            The middle hymn we just sang, “A Charge to Keep I Have,” is one that holds special significance for me because of my mom. My mom is a pediatric nurse practitioner and, a few years ago, won an award for excellence in nursing. In her speech, she quoted from this hymn. “A charge to keep I have, a God to glorify… To serve the present age, my calling to fulfill…” You see, for my mom, being a nurse has always been about fulfilling God’s call. She has always felt very clearly called to be a nurse. She has certain gifts for it and she was called to it. When I was in college, we had this ongoing conversation, because while I was an elementary education major, I never felt called to be a teacher. Teaching is a gift, and so I shared it. Another gift is an ability to connect fairly easily with most children, and so I went into elementary education. God gives us gifts to share, and so I was sharing. It was as simple as that for me. But later, I did feel called to serve in Nicaragua, and y’all have heard at least part of my call story to become a pastor. Teaching was my idea; being a pastor was not.  

            The Gospel we read this morning, often called the parable of the talents, or the eight bags of gold, is the third out of four stories Jesus tells back to back in this part of Matthew. For Jesus, it’s Tuesday, during what we now call Holy Week. It’s after the triumphal entry of Palm Sunday and two days before the last supper and the events of Holy Thursday, or Maundy Thursday. During that time, Jesus tells the disciples four stories about what the kingdom of heaven is going to be like at the end of time. The first story is a comparison of a faithful servant whom the master finds still at work upon returning home versus a wicked servant who gives up watching for his master’s return and stars beating his fellow servants and getting drunk. Lovely story, huh? The second one is the one we read last week about the ten bridesmaids who were waiting for the groom. Five of them had enough oil to light their lamps until the groom came and five of them ran out. So we have stories of be prepared and don’t give up waiting and watching. Today’s story is about a master who goes on a long trip and entrusts significant amounts of money to three of his servants. Each bag of gold was worth around 15 or 20 years of earnings as a day laborer.[1] One servant gets five of these bags, so around 100 years of wages; the second servant gets two bags, which amounts to about a lifetime of earnings; the third servant gets one bag. The first two servants use what they’ve been given. They invest their gifts and get double back. The third servant buries it in the ground. Doesn’t use it. Doesn’t invest it. Doesn’t even seem to want to think about it. After a long time, the master comes back and wants to hear accounts of what happened while he was gone. The first two servants are rewarded for being faithful with their gifts; the third one is punished for being so paralyzed by fear that he didn’t use his gift at all. He played it safe.

Do you see where I’m going here? We have all been given gifts. Some a lot, some a little, the amount doesn’t matter. The servant with two bags of gold did just as well as the guy with five bags. First, you’ve got to know what you’ve been given. What are the gifts God has given to you? If you don’t know, then let’s do a spiritual gifts inventory or just have a conversation. As I asked the children earlier, what are you good at? What do you like to do? What are you passionate about? What do you get complimented on for doing well? Is there something that overlaps all those categories? Or a couple of them? What are the gifts God has given to you? What are your talents? What are your passions? If you’re completely stuck on this question, give me a call this week. Before you can do anything with the bag the Master gave you, you need to know what’s in it.

Once you know what you have, then you can move on to discernment. This is praying and asking God and listening for an answer as to what to do with those gifts. A gift of teaching doesn’t always mean you’re called to be a schoolteacher. What is God calling you to do with what he’s given you? And a related question, what is God calling you to do today? Because what God has called you to in the past may not be what he’s calling you to do today. Some gifts, some callings are only seasonal. My mom’s nursing vocation was for a lifetime. My call to Nicaragua was only for one year. Some gifts change as well. We can’t do everything we used to be able to do, but there are things we can do now that we couldn’t before. So, what are your gifts? What is God calling you to do with them? There are a million different answers to that question, but I guarantee you that “bury them and ignore them” isn’t on the list.

            So, the third thing is follow-through. Do what God is calling you to do. Use your gifts that God has given you. Don’t bury them. Don’t ignore them. Use them. Invest them. It may take some figuring out, some trial and error experimenting, and that’s okay. God isn’t looking for a 200% return like the first two servants. He’s looking for faithfulness like the first two servants. God expects us to use what we’ve been given. He’s looking for us to not be overwhelmed and paralyzed by fear. God’s looking for us to resist fear, the fear that we are too small to make a difference, the fear that we’ll fail. Resist the temptation to be jealous of what others have, or even what we used to have. Don’t let fear or resentment paralyze you into inaction. Don’t bury your gifts. Use them. In the 2002 sleeper hit movie, “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” there’s a scene where Toula is concerned about her father’s response to her marrying someone who’s not Greek. She tells her mom and her mom basically says, don’t worry about your father. “I gave you life so you could live.” Go, live your life. Now, while Jesus said practically the same thing in John’s Gospel, “I came that you might have life, and have it abundantly,”[2] I can also hear him saying, “I gave you gifts so that you could use them.”

            Now, using the gifts God has given us is risky business. You may get hurt. You may be rejected. You may fail ten times before you find a better way to use it. Thomas Edison is quoted for having found a thousand ways not to invent a lightbulb before he figured it out. You see, this parable isn’t as much about using your gifts wisely as about just plain using them. Name and move past whatever fear is holding you back and trust God will see you through it. Failure isn’t the end of the world. Imperfection isn’t the end of the world. Not being faithful, lack of integrity, choosing to play it safe by not doing anything, these things are all problems. God calls all of us to faithfulness, and faithfulness involves trust and risk and the unknown. When God called Abram back in Genesis, he asked Abram to leave his father and his home, the only home he’d ever known, and go with Sara to a land God would show him. God didn’t tell him at the beginning that he was going to Canaan. God said, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.”[3] Not the land I’m showing you now. Not a land that you know. A land I’ll show you later down the road. We don’t know what the future’s going to be like exactly. We don’t know what Lisbon Church will look like. But if we’re faithful now, if we trust God will be with us along the journey, then we know that we will get there. God is leading us to a future he will show us. Later. Down the road sometime. We don’t even know what the future of our denomination is going to look like after the special General Conference called for in February 2019. But we know that if we keep the faith, which, by the way, means more than just believing ideas about Jesus but following Jesus and going where he leads and calls us to follow. If we continue to faithfully answer Jesus’ call to follow him, then we’ll get there, wherever it is God is leading us. Remember, the future’s in God’s hands. God is calling us to be faithful, to trust, to take the risk of investing our gifts. “Faithful living is not static.”[4] It’s not same ole, same ole. It’s working and investing and experimenting and learning what works and what doesn’t work.

            Sometimes we do get hurt. I mentioned that I usually find it relatively easy to connect with a child, but that is a gift that’s changed, and is different from how it used to be. When I left Nicaragua, and left my students there, and came back to the U.S. and started seminary, for most of seminary, I didn’t use that gift. And it was weird, because I couldn’t remember the names of the children at the church where I interned. And I started helping with Sunday school at the church my husband and I went to in seminary but I couldn’t remember the names of those children, either. It was like a mental block. And I didn’t recognize it until near the end of seminary. As a teacher, I had said goodbye to so many students, where I student taught in St. Louis, where I did grad work in Philly, the daycare where I worked for two summers in college, my students in North Carolina and my students in Nicaragua, that it hurt. And it hurt too much to allow myself to get attached to any more children, and it was like some automatic defense mechanism that had kicked in, until I recognized it and named it and decided that in my first appointment, I was going to make it a point to connect with kids again.

            When it comes to church life and gifts and passions from God, I’m a higher risk taker. If you have a decent, faithful idea that uses your and our gifts, let’s try it. It may not work. It may only work for a season, but you know what? It’s using our gifts, and that’s what God wants. There’s a quote from St. Irenaus from the second century that says, “The glory of God is man fully alive,” or “a living man.” God wants people who are alive, not burying their gifts, not ignoring God’s call, not playing it safe all the time, taking risks for his kingdom. And here’s the last question I’d really like you to share your thoughts on: What is God calling us to as a church? We haven’t updated our mission and vision as a church in a few years; it’s time. It’s something we’re going to work on next year. But it’s not something that can be done in one hour or one meeting. Discernment takes time. It takes prayer, which is two-way communication, us talking with God and listening to what God tells us. What is God calling us to as a church for this season? What gifts and resources do we already have that will help us get there? This isn’t so much who we want to become, but who God wants us to become. What does God want to do through Lisbon United Methodist Church? What does God want to happen here? What is God calling us to? And what does that look like? I want to hear your answers, so think about it, pray about it, and remember, faithfulness is a lot riskier than giving into fear. Yet, God will see us through. Thanks be to God.

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[1] Commentaries differ on the exact number of years.

[2] John 10:10

[3] Genesis 12:1

[4] Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 4, p. 311